Create a Hero RPG GAME THREAD (MOD Approved)

[trustyside-kick]

Ariel Supports You

As we head for the diner for breakfast, she tells me just where exactly I 'agreed' to displaying my artwork. It's over in Illinois, but thankfully not one of the art galleries I distaste greatly. Grace calls me picky, but I merely carefully choose where I want to show my art; not a big deal, right? So it looks like we're heading to Chicago.

I'm excited, although Grace seems to be a lot more excited than I am. Course, I try really really hard to attempt to share her feelings. After all, the point of going out for breakfast today is to celebrate.

"So what are you going to have, hun?"

"I've heard these guys make a mean Belgian Waffle; bigger than your head. I figured I'd put it to the test. What, with such a picky person I am. You?"

"I suppose I'll check out the French Toast."

So we wait for about 30 minutes for a table for two--I know, but that just means the place must really be that good, so at the same time of being impatient, I'm happy--and all the sudden the talk of marriage comes up.

"M-M-Marriage? We talked about this once already."

"I know, I know. But, think about it this way...you're art is starting to get noticed, and I've gotten two promotions in the past year. I think we are perfectly fine to try to give it a shot. Financial issues shouldn't even be a a whisper in the wind to us."

Financial issues was never something I felt was important. Love is love.

However, we once tried to whole 'living with each other deal', you know, to see if we were compatible? It wasn't a train wreck or anything, but she went through some pretty stressful stuff during that time. I'm talking PMS kind of reactions and such...every 2 minutes. I felt anything I said to her was somehow insulting or incredibly rude because of how she would overact when asking for my opinion. I love her, I really do...but sometimes the thought of living with her scares me.

Plus...she's a control freak. But, I lover her, and I could see myself marrying her: yea. But, then I also think about my recently obtained obligations. Not in a negative way, but how much can I really devote to her?

"Hun, you know I love you. And do I see marriage in our future? Course."

"But..."

A husband must be willing and able to always tend to and put his wife first; above all things. It's practically key to a successful marriage. Can I really do that if I have to put God and his will ahead of her really?

"But asking me right now about this, is like asking me to walk on water."

"W...Why? I don't understand."

"...I know."

I take her hand, and I see her sadness and confusion. I kiss her hand gently, and I brush my hand through her hair. Can I balance it out? I want to so much. What I have with Grace is the real deal. Why does this have to be so hard? Am I being forced in a position like my mother? Why? I've been able to always put God into my life, and Grace...does the role of the Archangel really change much?

"..."

The hostess walks up to us as we wait on the bench.

"Your table is ready."

I hear her, but my eyes stay focused on Grace.

"Sir?"

She turns her head from me, and gets up from the bench. There are no words. We simply walk over to our table, and have a seat. The waiter comes over to our table, and we start--what was supposed to be--a joyous breakfast.

 

[Byrd Man]

"Rise and shine, happy camper."

Jen plants a kiss on my cheek and starts to shake me awak.

"Ow, baby. I'm still sore. That Farmer punk did a number on me."

She rolls her eyes as she sits down on the bed next to me and puts on her socks.

"I swear, you men are all the same when it comes to pain..."

"Yeah, but baby, I had my kneecap broke and dislocated close to a half dozen times."

"Please. Go through chlid birth and then we'll talk."

I arc my eyebrow and I sit up in the bed.

"You haven't went through child birth either. Not yet, anyway."

Jen shoots me a look as she makes her way to the closet.

"Who says I want to have kids?"

I pull myself out of bed at superspeed and start to slip on my jeans.

"You-You don't?"

"I don't know yet, Matt. I mean, we were teenagers not too long ago, I just want to be sure before I have a kid."

I put my t-shirt on while Jen's putting on her make up.

"I see your point, but I know for sure that I want to have kids one day. I mean, isn't that one of the points of life?"

"I know, but the world is a ****ty place to live. I don't want to bring another life into this world and watch it suffer."

I tie my sneakers at superspeed while Jen finally places her earrings in and she looks down at her engagment ring.

"Is it me?"

She stops and turns to look at me as I zip into the bathroom and brush my teeth.

"What?"

"Am I the reason you don't want to have a baby? Are you afraid will make a monster?"

"WHAT?!? Matt, no. I love you. I want to be with you, I want to grow old with you."

"But you don't want to breed with me."

"No. Don't say that. It has nothing to do with you. I promise."

She walks over to me and we warmly embrace for awhile.

"I'm sorry, Jen. It' just, I guess I've been under stress at work lately. I didn't meant to go off like that. What can I do to make it up to you?"

She breaks away from me and looks up in my eyes with a sly smile.

"Now that you mention it, there is an art gallery opening I was hoping to go see tomorrow."

Crap. She knows I don't care for art and I think it's a big wast of time to walk around and act snobby while inspecting paintings....

"Sure thing, baby. I'd love to."

That's love for you. It doesn't matter what I want, it's all worth it to see that smile on her face.

"Thank you. It should be fun, it's at a newer gallery...umm can't think of the name...oh yeah! It's like The Callahan Fine Arts Gallery or soemthing."

"Sound fun...I think I better be getting to work. Johnny and Bruce need to see me about something."

"I better go too..."

We stare at each other for the longest time before we finally give a goodbye kiss.

"Love you."

"Love you too. I'll see you when I get home tonight."

"Okay, and you better not come up with some lame excuse about saving the world when we get ready to go tomorrow."

"I can't make any promises..."

I'm gone in the blink of an eye, In a few seconds I breeze into the Frytech building.

**************
​

"So, Matt. What do you think?"

"It's kinda tight..."

I talk to Johnny and Bruce behind a divider as I slip my new super suit on.

"We made it form fitting so it could slice through the air better and give you some extra speed."

"We also rigged sensors in the costume, from here at Frytech we can monitor your vitals, we have visual and audio like with the other costume, we also have a tracking beacon just incase you black out like you've done a few times already."

"So, Matt. How do you like it?"

I step out from behind the divider and smile.

Now be honest...."
​

"Does it make me look fat?"

 

[ScarletVenom25]

THE ASSAILANT
The Clan: Part Two​

I shoot downward, the wind rushing across my face. The first building was coming up, and I had to focus on my timing. I started crouching myself into a ball until the building was just feet away. I rolled through my landing without one bruise. Perfect, as always.​

After I give myself a mental pat on the back, I jog over to the other edge of the roof. It overlooked most of this part of Rockton, and would give me an advantage when it came to finding criminals. I scan my eyesight over the sidewalks and alleyways, but no luck. So I backed myself up and ran to the ledge again, faster though. I jumped right before the roof's end, and I leaped across the road 20 stories below.​

I saw the fire escape on the building I was about to hit, and grabbed the railing. I climbed onto the structure fully, and pulled myself up the rest of the way. I walked to the center of this rooftop, and saw something very peculiar a few blocks away. About 15 men, fully grown, were loading crates onto two helicopters. Remembering Uncle Chet's words about this Clan group, I maneuver my way towards the building.​

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice tons of people staring up at me in awe. To Rockton, I'm still a bit of a myth, so when someone spots me they go nuts. This is actually one of the first times I've let myself be noticed, but hopefully the exposure won't get to me. I turn my full attention back to the helicopters-they were getting ready to take off.​

I was just a few rooftops away from the building, but I wasn't going to make it. I looked everywhere for a way to get aboard the helicopters, and then I saw a tall building next to the one I was on. I ran in its direction. There was only a tight alleyway inbetween the two structures. I pulled out my katanas an ran for the building. When I was close enough, I stabbed the blades into the brick of the building, and hung for a few seconds. I pulled one blade out and thrust it in higher. Then the other one, until I was at the top.​

The helicopters are as high as this building now, I thought, this is my only chance. After I had holstered my katanas, I ran at one of the flying objects. In a last effort, I lunged for one of those ski-like things at the bottom of the aircraft. I held on tight, and off we went. With ease, I started swinging myself back and forth until my momentum was going. I went back too far on the next swing, and I acrobatically made my way inside the helicopter.​

Eight of the fifteen men, plus one at the controls, were there to greet me. "I'm sorry, but this is a no-flying zone." I said, and pulled out my katanas.​

THE ASSAILANT
The Clan: Part Three
​

I thrust one of my katanas upwards out of the helicopter. It began hitting the blades, slowing the rotor down. As the pilot tried to control the plane, three of the thugs ran at me. I put away my other katana and prepared myself. One of the thugs ran straight at me, but I kicked him in the gut, then hit my knee right off his head. He was out cold.

Another one made a dive for my legs, but I jumped over him. He slid right out of the helicopter, but I grabbed his leg. That's just a little policy of mine: no one dies unless it's necessary. The third one just stood in front of me, staring at me in awe. "Catch," I said, and whipped the thug I was holding up right at him, knocking them both over.

I walk over to the pilot, the rest of the thugs too scared to attack me. "Where is this thing headed?" I asked, gripping one of his shoulders.

He was terrified, but was able to stutter out an answer, "Th-the n-n-new Roselli b-building downtown." I picked him up by the back of his shirt, and threw him onto the two-man pile I had started. I took over the controls, and began flying us toward downtown.

I spoke to the thugs with no hesitation. "I'm piloting the rest of the way, if anyone calls or radios in, you are to act if I never came aboard. The same goes for when we get to the building."

One of thugs speaks back. "What if we don't want to?" He says, in a cocky manner.

I don't look back at him, but I answer his question. "Then you're gonna get a nice, long freefall from as high as I can get this thing." I hear him swallow hard. Obviously, his ego had just gone down a notch. We get closer to the brand new, 75 story building, and I get off of the controls. I walk to the back of the helicopter, and pick up the pilot. Without saying a word, he goes back to the controls as I hide amongst the cargo, preparing myself for the infiltration ahead.​

 

[Eddie Brock]

Season I, Part 62

"Sean?" the eager voice of Jim calls out from the other end of the phone, "What are you doing right now?"

"Nothing," I respond simply while continuing to perform one-armed push-ups in my bedroom. I'm holding the phone with my free hand. "Why?"

"Turn on the news!" he commands excitedly.

I come back up for my 239th push-up before hopping carelessly to my feet. I search for the remote, finally finding it after a few moments of looking. As I turn on the TV, the news broadcast is already underway.

"--quite how it started, but the Carver District Police report that they receive nearly 3 bags of fan-mail every day for the masked vigilante Mantis. The letters come from all walks of life, one policeman reports, and they are all geared towards one purpose - expressing support for the man in green."

"Fan-mail?" I repeat aloud. I don't believe it! I have fans?

"I know, right? Mantis is a hit, Sean! You're a public figure - an icon!"

Mantis? An icon? I mean, I'm not one to shy away from attention, but that makes it all sound so...big. I'm just one guy doing his part - and I'm not even doing that much for that matter. So where is all this adoration coming from? More importantly, do I deserve it?

"I'll call you later, Jim," I promise hastily before hanging up the phone. As I toss it casually onto my bed, I grab my green spandex and head out the window. This I have to see for myself.

***

Several people - policemen and citizens alike - notice me as I approach the Carver District Police Station. Finally, one steps forward just as I come to a landing.

"Mantis? What can we do for you?" he asks politely. I'm so glad that the law enforcement has my back. If they were against me, it would just be another unneeded hassle.

"I just saw on the news that I get fan-mail?" I respond confusedly. I sure hope he knows what I'm talking about - otherwise I'm going to sound crazy.

He nods understandingly. "Follow me."

The cop leads me to a room full of burlap sacks. Inside each sack are countless amounts of unopened envelopes.

"We don't read 'em...usually," he admits, turning a little red at the end. "At the end of each week, we just recycle it all. But then the next day, the mailman brings more and more. We never knew how to really contact you, so we didn't know if you'd mind..."

I shake my head. As flattered as I am, I don't have nearly enough time to read all of this. "Do whatever with them. But...can I take a bag?"

"Go ahead," he replies. "They're all yours anyway."

***

I spent the rest of the night reading the letters in one of the bags. Man, the news wasn't kidding. You really do get all kinds of varieties.

First of all, I have this admirer. Her entire letter is filled with mushy sayings about how she needs a real man like me. Oh, if she only knew that I was a teenager! She's truly convinced that she and I were meant to be. Brooke would get a kick out of this - if she knew my secret, that is. Hey, this chick attached a photogr--

My eyes widen. That is so not age-appropriate.

Tossing that letter aside, I move to the next one. This one is from a kid - I can tell by the crayon writing and makeshift drawings. See, this is the kind of thing that lifts my spirits. I'm a role model to this kid. A role model! Me! I really don't believe it. Sometimes I feel like I'm living someone else's life.

Here's an interesting one! This guy - must be a scientist by the way he's writing - is convinced that I'm an alien. He wants me to meet him at some address to run some testing on my species. Hmm...on second thought, maybe this guy isn't a scientist. Maybe he's just plain crazy.

I thrust my hands into the bag - even at the risk of paper-cuts. Finally, I feel my hands wrap around something oddly shaped. It's bigger than a regular envelope. Pulling it out, I see that it's a banner made of colored paper. Again, it was clearly made by a group of children. As my eyes run across it, I feel them begin to water up. This really touches my heart.

JACKSON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL LOVES MANTIS!

That's what is written in many colors and fonts across the banner. Surrounding it are the names of the children who collaborated on the project. At the bottom is a drawing of a green man - myself, I presume - with my arms around a group of smiling stick-figure children.

Placing the banner down, I bite my bottom lip to keep from having a breakdown. The last thing I want is to have Mom, Dad, or Vicki come up here with all these letters in my room. Nonetheless, I feel completely moved by the warm feelings of all of those who wrote me - especially the younger ones.

I'm doing the right thing.
​

 

[Saved]

"I'm a survivor, and I'm on your side." With a sigh, Adam's expression softened slightly. "Trust me, if I wanted to hurt you, you'd know it, and if I wanted you dead, you never would've woken up. We have the same goals here; to get Zano. I need to know where he was last headed. The sooner you tell me, the sooner I leave you in peace and bring that bastard down. Comprende'?"

Nightmares Part IV

Eric stays silent, thinking to himself about his current situation. Okay, this guy is right. If he wanted to kill me...he could've easily done it already. I'm sedated and wounded. I wouldn't call that in good fighting shape. He wants information about Zano. How did he know I fought him? Huh. How did he know I was Pulse for that matter? I'll play along for the moment, but I best keep up my guard. Someone who keeps his opponent alive is either stupid...or they want something. Got to watch out...after I tell him...he may try to kill me. But if he does, nothing will stop me from using every last ounce of my power to rip him in two.

Eric smiles, he gets to his feet from the floor, his legs showing no signs of weakness. Pain courses through Eric's body as every muscle in his body tenses. He hides the pain behind a sneer, folding his arms across his chest.

"Alright," he starts, his body standing tall and firm. "I'll tell you. But I'm not an idiot. I have information you want, and now, you have information I want. How about a trade?"​

 

[Feature]

AGNUS DEI
Season I - Part 13


The amnesiac bursts through the basement doors and flies into the heart of the empty cathedral, shouting loudly.

"Father Wycazik! FATHER!"

In a few seconds, the old priest emerges from the back rooms.

"What is it? Why are you shouting?"

"Father! I... I saw something! I had, like... a vision!"

The old priest sits in one of the pews and motions for the amnesiac to do the same.

"What do you mean? What did you see?"

"I saw these two men. They... they were in a middle of a warzone or something! The place they were in was burning down around them! And one of them insisted it was God's will that they die in the blaze!"

Wycazik stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes painted over with a faraway look.

"What did these men look like?"

"One of them... I don't know. I was seeing things through his eyes. I could only see the one who insisted that God wanted them to die. He was thin... red-haired... really intense eyes. There was something evil in those eyes..."

Wycazik thought for another moment before getting to his feet with a sigh.

"It doesn't mean anything to me. I can look into the scriptures but... I think Chief Block might have more luck. Perhaps you should share this with him."

The amnesiac nodded beneath his helmet and ran back down to the basement.


**********


When Brendan Cronin materialized inside his room at the lab, James Pollard was waiting for him.

"Well?"

Pollard's voice surprised Cronin. He jumped at the sound, then upon realizing its source, shook his head in frustration.

"Nothing. I told you there would be nothing, and so there was."

"I see. Better luck next time."

Cronin, who was slim and pale, hated looking at James Pollard. He had a body that no bioscientist ought to have. His hulking frame was better suited to a football player, or an ancient gladiator.

"Yes. And I will decide when 'next time' is myself. I know the limits of my abilities far better than the lot of you."

"Is that so?"

The voice came from the doorway. Volkaw was here at last. The Institute's leading scientist... their boss... the man behind the curtain had at long last dared to show his face.

"Volkaw..." Cronin mumbled, suddenly neutered.

Volkaw was quite tall, taller even than Pollard. He was much slimmer though, perhaps more so than Cronin. His head was bald, but for a horseshoe of scraggy black hair that dusted the back of his neck. He wore a long, pointed goatee.

While none of these things were remarkable, it was Volkaw's right eye that made him so terribly intimidating. Three jagged scars raced from his forehead down to his lips, crossing the eye, which was eerily clouded. It was a blank white orb that seemed to piece into Cronin's very soul.

"I am well aware of the limits of your powers, Brendan. Lest you forget, I helped your mother make you what you are today."

Neither Cronin nor Pollard spoke as Volkaw paced the room, his arms folded behind his back.

"You are by far our best tool, Brendan, and we must put you to use if we are ever to find the subject."

At last, Cronin spoke up.

"The trail has gone cold. I... I don't think we'll ever pick it up again."

Volkaw made a tsking sound.

"Have a little faith, Brendan. Stay positive. My determination, if nothing else, will see the subject returned to us. I've already lost one before... I'll be damned if I lose another!"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Uriel makes you Fearless

Man am I happy it is Saturday. Friday started off interesting with the incident with her brother, then really odd and uncomfortable with the "M-word", the mid-afternoon sure was useful, and then things got really interesting come nightfall. And here I wanted to get my beauty sleep for my big day today.

After Grace and I parted ways, I finally did some searching on the World Wide Web, and found some interesting information about the supposed Archangels who watch over me. Each source was different, but I found several interesting and similar things. It's not much, but it is a start as far as understanding it all.

What happened last night occurred while I was heading over to Grace's apartment. We had brought my suitcase and such earlier that day because we planned on staying at hers to get up early in the morning: she lives closer to the airport and traffic sucks.

But back to what happened last night. On my way over, I run into one of my old buddies from college. He wasn't doing so hot. I learned he went to rehab for a few months, and even though he was dubbed "cured" and got out, he got back into the habit once again. Grace understood though when I told her why I was two hours late.

The guy's name was Mark. Great guy at heart, just got in the rough crowd in high school. We were friends, but eventually went our separate ways. But I sat him down, took him to a ice cream parlor, and we talked about what was going on each other's lives. Of course, we spent most of the time talking about his drug issues rather my life. But we left the parlor real good. I'm going to keep in contact with him to see how he does. I'm going to be there for him to help him through the whole relapse thing. It's kind of odd, all those years I thought he had changed cause he ran with a different crowd; but he was the same great guy.

It doesn't take long for us to fly to Chicago. The flight movie wasn't too entertaining, so I just drew a few sketches while we were up in the sky. Nothing much, really. A few of the things I'm considering about painting, though.

When we land in Chicago, I finally understand why it is dubbed "The Windy City"; but we get through it fine. It's kind of funny. Chicago is kind of like Boston and New York, but cleaner. We take a cab with all our stuff to take us to The Callahan Fine Arts Gallery, and the day truly starts to get interesting.

After setting up, we get a few cups of coffee since we got time to spare, and luckily the "M-word" doesn't come up again. I just cannot commit that much extra to her until I get this whole God and Archangel thing figured out. I hope it is soon, cause I do love her and I want to marry her; it is all just so confusing and fast.

"Come on, babe. It's 1:37PM. We gotta get back to the Art Gallery in 13 minutes to make sure everything is set."

"Yup, and then...at 2 'o clock..."

"...We wait to see how much people goes crazy for it all, hun. It's going to be amazing."

She gives me a kiss on the cheek, and we get up from our chairs and exit the coffee house. Man, am I glad it is Saturday.

 

[Spike_x1]

Nightmares Part IV

Eric stays silent, thinking to himself about his current situation. Okay, this guy is right. If he wanted to kill me...he could've easily done it already. I'm sedated and wounded. I wouldn't call that in good fighting shape. He wants information about Zano. How did he know I fought him? Huh. How did he know I was Pulse for that matter? I'll play along for the moment, but I best keep up my guard. Someone who keeps his opponent alive is either stupid...or they want something. Got to watch out...after I tell him...he may try to kill me. But if he does, nothing will stop me from using every last ounce of my power to rip him in two.

Eric smiles, he gets to his feet from the floor, his legs showing no signs of weakness. Pain courses through Eric's body as every muscle in his body tenses. He hides the pain behind a sneer, folding his arms across his chest.

"Alright," he starts, his body standing tall and firm. "I'll tell you. But I'm not an idiot. I have information you want, and now, you have information I want. How about a trade?"​

"Fine," sighed Adam. "I'm one of the local superheroes, for lack of a better term, in this city. I've been hunting down Zano for a number of days without too much luck, until your hissy fight with him earlier tonight got people talking. The way that some people were describing the fight and the injuries you took on, it didn't take a genius to think of keeping watch over the nearest hospital for someone that badly beaten up. And aside from a sixty year old drunken wino who'd apparently been run over by a car, you're the best fit for the injuries described."

The Survivor stepped forward toward Pulse, his eyes glowing with fiery determination. "That's who I am and how I found you; now are you going to tell me what I want to know?"

 

[Climperoonie]

Mad Scientist - Part I​

"Uh...Bye?" I say lightly as he flies away. At least now I know how to contact him if- Suddenly something cuts off my train of thought. A plant, a very small, vine covered plant. That wasn't there before. I walk up to it and pick it up. All of a sudden, the plant melts into a jelly-like mixture in my hand. Then vines lash out of it and cover my lower arm. More vines whip out and fall on the ground. The group swipes together and create a Human figure. The thing looks human, but bulky, and covered in vines, with no apparent human skin. It has no hair, no mouth, no nose, no ears, just eyes on it's face. On the hands and feet, the vines merge into green moss like skin. Oh yeah, and my hand is stuck in the mass of his chest.

"You are Jacob Henry Coles. Confirm." The plant-man says. I nod. He relinquishes his hold on me. I pull my hand out.

"Follow me." The thing demands.

"Look Buster, I'm not going anywhere." I tell him. He turns to me, and stares at me with his emotionless eyes. Two vines uncoil from his body and rear up. Before I can move, they dart forward and extend, wrapping round my shoulders and drawing me toward him. He pulls me into him, and I am helpless to resist. As the moss and vines enclose me, my life flashes before my eyes, and everything goes black.

Mad Scientist - Part II​

I wake up, gasping for air, and find myself strapped shirtless to a table. In the corner stands a man. He's hunched over with black hair, and pale skin. Standing over me is Zireus. The scientist turns and shambles toward me. He pulls out a syringe and pushes it into my arm. I struggle to break free.

"Struggle all you want, boy. But I suppose I should be kind. Thank you for your blood." The scientist grins at me.

"Release me, you sonofa-."

"Language, now, language." He says. He squirts the blood into a container with clear liquid. The blood immediatly turns it red. He picks it up and drinks it.

"Now watch as I become a superiaaaAAAAAAARRRGH!" He screams as his body gruesomly transforms. His viens pump with blood, and all of a sudden the group of lines in different places start to spread, turning his skin red. His body bulks, and his hair seems to disapparate. He transforms to twice the size he was before. He raises his hands in front of his face and looks at his new body.

"Well, this is unexpected." He grins, showing deadly razor sharp teeth. He looks at me with an evil glint in his eye, and know what he wants. He wants to fight me. And I know I'm going to loose.​

 

[Byrd Man]

I pull my leather jacket on and grab my car keys as Jess grabs her purse and we walk out the front door.

"Why do we have to take the car? I mean, I can zip us there in a few moments."

"As fun as it is, baby. I get motion sickness when you speed me around. Besides, it'll do you some good to be normal for awhile."

I press a button on my key chain and the car alarm on the brand new Jaguar disarms.

"Yeah, normal..."

************
​

"Can I take a picture with you?"

I smile as a teenage boy holds up his cellphone.

"Sure. I suppose you're gonna put this on Myspace?"

"Maybe."

He gets his buddy to hold the cellphone while he stands next to me and puts his arm around me, he holds his hand up in a peace sign.

"I don't want to see any gang signs..."

He looks a little dissapointed as he puts his hand down.

"I'm just ****ing with you, throw it up."

He smiles as he throws his hand back up, his buddy takes the picture and I shake their hands before they leave.

"I better not see that on eBay. If I do, I'm totally suing your asses."

They laugh as they leave, I turn to Jess, who's got her arms crossed and a smile on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just like to see you basking in the spotlight. It doesn't seem that long ago that you were jobless and depressed. Look at you now, a celebrity and superhero."

Jess takes my hand as we walk towards the art gallery.

"I know. These few months have gone by so fast."

"Well, honey. You are the fastest man alive."

"Except in the bedroom."

"Don't be so sure."

"That's cold, baby."

We both share a laugh as we walk down the sidewalk. It only takes a few minutes to reach the art gallery.

"Callahan Fine Arts Gallery. 'Featured artist including: Raymond Kirby, Jack Brewer, Michael Angelo, and Frank Hubbard.' This looks like the pace."

I open the door and motion Jess inside.

"After you, future Mrs. Blue Blur."

​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon​

Carefully Icon descends to the balcony of his apartment after a long night flying above the city looking for trouble. It was a slow night. He walks through the double doors leading into the living room and finds Nicole sitting on the sofa, waiting for him.

"We have to talk."

"About what?"

"You." She pauses for a moment trying to think of the best way to continue the conversation.

"I'm worried about you. You've been...different lately. You haven't been here. You haven't even been to work. Michaels knows that something is going on with you, and he would have had you fired already if it wasn't for me covering for you. But I don't know how much longer I can do that, Scott. If you keep pulling your disappearing acts at school, he won't have any choice, and my excuses won't do you any good."

"What do you want me to do Nicole?"

"Try talking to me. I'm not as stupid as you think I am, Scott. I don't need super powers to figure out that you still blame yourself for Centennial Square."

"And who else would I blame?"

"How about the maniac who caused the explosion."

"I caused it. I went in there way too cocky and it cost a lot of people their lives."

"You don't get it do you? You can't save everybody. You've done a lot of good out there, how many people are alive today because of the things that you can do? But what you can't do is be everywhere at once. And you can't blame yourself when people die. There wasn't anything you could do to save the people who died. You did everything you could, and you did save alo-" He cuts her off.

"I didn't do enough. I know I can't save everybody, but that doesn't mean I won't try."

"Scott, we need to figure something out, Michaels is going to be asking a lot of questions tomorrow, and we need to figure out what-" He cuts her off again.

"I'll figure it out when the time comes."

"You'll figure it--? Scott, no. Just talk to me, and we'll work it out...together. But you can't just run off at the first sign of trouble anymore."

"And what would you have me do? Just sit by while some super powered maniac kills more people? I have responsibilities Nicole."

"Yes, you do have responsibilities. You have responsibilities to the school, to those kids, and You have responsibilities to me. You're not the only one in this city with powers, I'm sure one of the others will take care of things while you're at work."

"And if the others thought like that, this city would be in ruins by now. Look, I don't have time for this, I have to go."

Icon goes back over to the balcony and flies away into the night sky as Nicole watches him leave with tears in her eyes.

 

[Saved]

"Fine," sighed Adam. "I'm one of the local superheroes, for lack of a better term, in this city. I've been hunting down Zano for a number of days without too much luck, until your hissy fight with him earlier tonight got people talking. The way that some people were describing the fight and the injuries you took on, it didn't take a genius to think of keeping watch over the nearest hospital for someone that badly beaten up. And aside from a sixty year old drunken wino who'd apparently been run over by a car, you're the best fit for the injuries described."

The Survivor stepped forward toward Pulse, his eyes glowing with fiery determination. "That's who I am and how I found you; now are you going to tell me what I want to know?"

Nightmares Part V

Eric falls silent for a moment as he thinks over the intruder's response.

"Yeah, alright." He says reluctantly. "Ya got a point. Nice detective skills."
Eric sighs, and stands tall, the stitches in his side burning. Eric keeps a straight face, hiding his pain beneath a clever guise.

"Zano was with some kid. They were meeting with the DA. Pretty sure they were making a dirty deal. I didn't hear much. Anyway, I attacked them and DA's men gased me. Zano left, I chased him. He hit me with the car, and things just went down hill from there." Eric's hands ball into fists and he closes his eyes, looking to away in shame.

"Last I saw him, he was evading the scene in his car." Eric calms himself down, and looks up back at Survivor. "Car's pretty busted up, torn roof, broken, possibly shattered, windshield. Oh," Eric smiles. "I broke his little friend's arm."

"Anything else?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Uriel makes you Fearless

Grace and I got back in time to get everything set. Me, I did a last minute check on the memorization of my speech, while Grace re-arranged the pieces of art before we pulled the curtains...three times. I was surprised she was done with it after the third switch-er-roo.

"Uh, Ladies and Gentlemen. We live in a world, full of different types of religion. But we all worship the same god, really. Now, there are also some people who have given up on all and any types of faith to believe in. Some of them have been hurt and put through pretty rough times, and some of them feel like their prayers are never being answered..."

I get a bit emotional, and wipe my eye during my speech. People take snapshots, and I can already hear the headlines of tomorrow. But, I try to shrug it off mentally.

"...Um, sorry. We all have those times, believer or non-believer...and it takes so much courage to hold onto such thoughts, because in the back of your mind, no matter how much doubt you feel? At the same time you feel His presence. Sometimes, you think when you close your eyes, and listen clearly...He speaks to you; in the oddest of ways sometimes. Some of us..."

That's when Grace takes the cloth off of my first painting to reveal, and painting that entitles my entire Portfolio.

"...take a Leap of Faith."

The crowd starts to clap, and from the faces, they really like it. Snapshots are being taken almost to where I don't think it will end, and I finally am able to muster up a smile as I continue.

"And when you take that Leap of Faith? When you...put yourself out there like that? You're thinking the whole time down, 'Why oh why did I do this?'...and then? He catches you. He saves you from the fall, and cradles you in His arms. He sings a lullaby almost in your ears, and you finally start to believe that things will be alright again. You suddenly start to really know what it means, to believe in your beliefs."

My smirk resides and I take a more serious, yet emotional tone.

"You look up, at the mountain you climbed, and the struggles you faced, and you take a good look at that cliff. You believe you can go through anything now. You become fearless at the journey ahead, because you know he will always be there with you when you need him most. I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here. Thank you."

A thunder of claps, as well as a few shouts emit as well. I feel...good. No. I feel...amazing.

 

[Spike_x1]

Nightmares Part V

Eric falls silent for a moment as he thinks over the intruder's response.

"Yeah, alright." He says reluctantly. "Ya got a point. Nice detective skills."
Eric sighs, and stands tall, the stitches in his side burning. Eric keeps a straight face, hiding his pain beneath a clever guise.

"Zano was with some kid. They were meeting with the DA. Pretty sure they were making a dirty deal. I didn't hear much. Anyway, I attacked them and DA's men gased me. Zano left, I chased him. He hit me with the car, and things just went down hill from there." Eric's hands ball into fists and he closes his eyes, looking to away in shame.

"Last I saw him, he was evading the scene in his car." Eric calms himself down, and looks up back at Survivor. "Car's pretty busted up, torn roof, broken, possibly shattered, windshield. Oh," Eric smiles. "I broke his little friend's arm."

"Anything else?"

"No." Adam turned around and began walking to the door. As his hand grasped the door handle, he looked over his shoulder at Pulse and smiled mischievously. "You've been a moderate help. I'll send you some flowers; get well soon." After stepping into the hallway, not another soul in the hospital saw Adam Locke again as he stealthily accessed the roof of the building and again began traversing the dark skyline of Lost Haven.

Pulse's description did help more than the so-called eye witness accounts of the fight between him and Zano. Those reports were contradicting each other constantly and were anything but reliable, other than the basic facts of both Zano and Pulse being on the scene and a heavily smashed-up vehicle. In the seedy neighborhoods near the hospital, there had to be dozens of cars in various degrees of damage, whether having been stripped down or in accidents, but the specific details of the car's damage, provided by Eric, would definitely narrow down the search.

 

[Feature]

AGNUS DEI
Season I - Part 14


Ernie Block, chief of police, sits in a luxurious office. He is nestled deep in a leather armchair, and the rich scent of mahogany fills his nostrils. Sitting a few feet from him, across a huge desk of finely polished oak, is Lemuel Johnson... FBI.

"Jesus, Ernie... I think I've got to hear you say all this again."

Lemuel pulls the burning cigar out from between his lips and dabs at his black brow with a handkerchief.

"I know what this sounds like, Lem... but it's true. Every goddamn word of it."

Lemuel, a tall native of Haiti, leans back in his chair and groans.

"You're telling me that there's a man out there who can't be killed? A man with no memory? Who seems to have just... come out of nowhere?"

"I told you what I think, Lem. I think his memories have been wiped. I think someone was experimenting on him... trying to make him what he is."

Lemuel looks out the enormous window to his back, when the skyline is backlit by a bloody sunset.

"You know me, Lem. I wouldn't lie to you. I wouldn't waste you time... or mine."

"I just don't understand, Ernie. You let him go? You just... left him alone? Guy sounds pretty friggin' dangerous to me."

"I know. I know it. But I've met him and... I've got a pretty strong feeling he won't hurt anyone. Besides, how the hell could I stop him? The damn guy can't be shot. He... he can't be stopped!"

Lemuel Johnson leans on his desk and holds his skull in both hands, as if trying to stop his brain from exploding.

"Alright, Ernie. I'll see what I can do. I just don't know where to start. This is... Jesus. This is friggin' nuts."

"Can't argue with you there."

A half hour later, Ernie pulls into his parking spot at the police station. He listens to the rain, gently tapping a beat on the roof of his car. Then he steps out into the night.

"Mr. Block?"

Ernie whips around, only to see the amnesiac emerging from the bushes.

"Jesus Christ! What's the matter with you?"

"I've got something to tell you."

"Holy crap... I think you literally just scared the crap out of me..."

"Mr. Block... I think I might have remembered something."

 

[Byrd Man]

I stifle a yawn as Jen leads me through the diffrent paintins.

"Look at this one, 'Leap of Faith'. I think it'd look good in our living room."

I look up at the painting, it's a man leaping off of a cliff, his eyes are closed and his expression is calm, almost pleaseant. It's like he knows he'll be okay. I guess the name really does fit.

"Hi there."

A woman approaches us, she shakes Jen's hand and then mine.

"Im Grace Moretti, I'm the manager of Michael Angelo. I noticed you admiring his art. Would you like to talk to him?"

Jen smiles and nods, I just nod in agreement, like a good boy.

"I'd love that."

Grace Moretti leads us across the art gallery, towards a young guy talking to a few people.

"Micheal, I think I might have some potential buyers."

 

[trustyside-kick]

Uriel makes you Fearless

I'm talking to some pretty important people of Chicago right now, and frankly, I'm not too comfortable. This is exactly the reason I don't like mingling with the potential buyers at my art galleries. May not be the proper way to do business, but I'm not always so proper when it comes to something I'm passionate about.

They keep talking about how they want to pay above the listed price and hang it in one of their, like, 500 bedroom penthouse and already I'm turned off and frankly, don't want to accept their money.

When Grace comes to my side, I think at first 'awesome, he comes my gal to save the day from conversing with these pompous, two-faced, people', and then I spot her two guests. I don't get the same vibe from these two, which is amazing because they look like actually normal people: people who can truly appreciate art. Not these millionaires who simply want to make their penthouse look better than their rivalry best friends. But people who might really appreciate art. I like them already.

"Excuse me for a second, gentlemen..."

Thank you Grace...

"Micheal, I think I might have some potential buyers."

"Really, now? What pieces of work did you have your eyes on?"

 

[Byrd Man]

"It's the one you called 'Leap of Faith'. I love it, it's kinda symbolic of our lives."

Jen does all the talking, but I have to shrug in agreement. She has a point, all that's happend. My becoming a superhero, the experiment itself. Was all done in a leap of faith.

"Yeah, I have to agree with that. These past few months, I've felt like I've had someone up there on my side."

I point a finger towards the sky and laugh.

"So, Mister Angelo. What inspired you to paint it?"

 

[trustyside-kick]

Uriel makes you Fearless

"So, Mister Angelo. What inspired you to paint it?"

It feels like a kick in the nuts for me right now. That painting? Why do they gotta be interested in that painting. The painting, that I didn't even mean to be put in this art gallery. The painting, that when I saw Grace's reaction to the responses she got, I allowed to be put in to make her happy. Why that painting?

"...Oh, you like that painting, huh?"

I rub the back of my head and force a smirk on my face to be polite. I really didn't want it to come to this.

"It came to me in a dream, actually; a vision. At first, I was a bit confused with it all; how it came to me and what it was supposed to mean. I mean, let's face it. A man falling from a cliff is not the most pleasant of scenes. But then I began to understand what it all meant..."

This is the part where I have to drift off and lie. I'd hate to, but I cannot exactly be truthful here.

"...when I had a conversation with a Priest. I'm an orphan, and that is only a small speck of the problems I went through. Life was pretty rough at times."

Grace looks at me odd, because of what I said. Yea, I was an orphan. And yea, I went through some small things that were rough. But she wonders why I didn't tell them, what I told her since she was there when I myself was trying to understand it. Boy am I glad she doesn't call me out...yet.

"But I'm afraid that painting is not for sale. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about, babe? It's the center piece!"

And that's when she finally calls me out as she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow. Crap.

 

[Byrd Man]

"Come on, Mister Angelo. I'm sure we can negotiate a price. My finacee is quite wealthy."

She turns her attention to me and I get a bit flustered.

"Y-yeah...b-but, baby..I mean. If he doesn't want to sell he doesn't have t-."

Jen shots me a look and I slightly slump my shoulders.

"Like the lady said, we can negotiate a price. Infact, if you sell this painting to us, I can throw in a special gift. I'm not sure if you recognize me, but I'm kinda popular in Chicago. I'm sort of a celebrity."

I sheppishly whisper the last part.

"I'm the Blue Blur..."

"What was that?"

"I'm the Blue Blur."

"What?"

"I'm the Blue Blur. You know, the superhero...yeah, that's me."

 

[Saved]

Nightmares Part VI

Eric Renden tosses and turns in his bed at Lost Haven General. His body is hooked up by many wires to monitoring machines by his bedside. The machines blink and beep, the glow of their screens giving off a soft green glow.

Eric lays unconscious, his body fast asleep after his trying encounter with the Survivor. As he lies in the bed, his mind is lost within the deep abbesses of his subconscious. His thoughts are lost in a world of dreams, a world of fantasy, a world of hell. Eric finds himself lost in his memories, nightmares of his past.

1999

Eric Renden drives down a suburban street in a small town, his blue camry shining in the sun’s light. As he drives past the well painted houses, he looks down at the badge sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He smiles, and looks back to the road, a look of pride on his face. Eric slows his speed, and turns into t he driveway of one of the residential houses. He puts the car into park, and pulls his keys from the ignition, tucking them away in his pocket. He grabs the badge from the seat next to him, and puts it in the pocket inside his coat.

“Alright. Time to spread the good news.” Eric steps out of the car, and carefully closes the door. He pulls his black coat over his t-shirt and dark pants, and heads up the walkway to the front door. When Eric reaches the front of the house, he takes a deep breath and stays still for a moment.

“Okay. I’m ready.” He knocks on the solid white metal door, and waits patiently for someone to come greet him. After a few minutes, a man’s figure is seen behind the glass of the door. The man smiles, and opens the door. The man is elderly, his skin hiding his age well. The wind blows his white hair up and over, his blue eyes piercing through the air.

“Hey, son.” The man says with a warm smile.

“Hey, Dad. How have you and mom been?”

“Pretty good. Come on inside.” Eric steps over the threshold into the house, and his dad pats him on the back. “You know I’m proud of you, son.” He says in a soft voice.

“Yeah, thanks.” Eric smiles and walks down the familiar hallway into the living room. There, on one of the tan couches, sits an elderly woman. Next to her lies a Jack Russell terrier. The dog has a large brown spot over its eye, and another places randomly on the small of his back. The woman pets the dog as she watches the Television set in front of her, her focus so sharp, she doesn’t notice Eric standing by the room’s entrance. Eric stares at the woman caringly, his eyes showing a compassionate glow. Eric’s father walks up behind him, and takes a deep sigh.

“She’s been like this for a couple months now.” He says solemnly.

“Has she been able to move?”

“No. The car accident left her with no feeling in her legs. It’s only gotten worse.” A tear comes to Eric’s eye, but he quickly brushes it away. His hands clench tightly, as he looks down at the floor.

“It’s my fault. If I was here…I could have driven her that night. She wouldn’t have had to be alone on the road that night. It’s my fault.”

“No, son.” His dad says in a reassuring tone, placing his hand upon his son’s shoulder. “You didn’t do this. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I was away at the academy. I could have been here.”

“Then you would be paralyzed too. You have a future, son. A bright one. Don’t go blaming yourself for this. It was an accident. No one could have stopped it.” Eric nods to his father, and he walks into the room. He walks over to the couch, and his mother sees him. A smile comes across her face as the dog jumps off the cushion, and onto the floor, his barking loud as his tail wags.

“Eric! You’re home!” Eric walks over to his mother. He leans down and hugs her as the two embrace.

“Yes, mom. My training is over.”

“Does that mean?”

“Yes,” Eric says with a smile. “I’m a member of the FBI.” Eric pulls out the badge from his pocket, and hands it to his mother. Eric’s mother gasps as her mouth opens wide. She holds the badge tightly in her hands as tears of joy come to her eyes. "But don't tell anyone. You know, gotta keep this stuff secretive." Eric says with a wink.

“Oh, honey. I knew you could do it.” The two hug again as Eric’s father walks over to them.

“Good work, son. We both believed in you.”

“Thanks, dad.” Eric says turning to his father.

“You’ve wanted this since you were in Junior High, and now you’ve done it.”

“Yeah. Took most of my life, but it was worth it.”

“Oh, please. You’re twenty eight. You’re just starting your life.”

“You’re right, mom.”

“So, Eric, what was your rank.” Eric smirks.

“That’s classified. You’ll have to get used to that.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t just tell us?”

“I could, but saying I was second would be bragging.”

“Second?” His mother says in shock. “Eric, that’s wonderful.”

“Good work. See, put your mind to it.”

“Yeah. I gotta say, I did enjoy most of it.”

“Did you meet anyone?” Eric’s mother inquires. “Like a girl, maybe?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense, boy! Tell us.”

“Remember how I said I was second?” He asks his parents. The two nod to him in understanding. “Well, she’s first. Jen Hensen.”

“Oh, honey, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“So, when do you start?”

“I’m already being put on assignment.”

“So soon?”

“Well, yeah. They need their best agents ready.” Eric says with a wink.

“Any idea where you’ll be stationed?”

“Hopefully someplace close to us here, in Harrisburg.”

“I doubt it. Things are getting worse in Blitzen.”

“Oh, they better not send my baby to that dreadful place.” His mother says protectively. “Blitzen is filled with murderers and gangs.”

“But, mom, that’s where they need people like me the most. They don’t send agents to nice places.” His mother sighs, her tone calming.

“I suppose you’re right. But I still would rather them not put you in a place like that.”

“Crime lords on the rise, mom. Their dirty dealings must be stopped and they must be brought to justice.”

“That’s the spirit, son.” Eric smiles, and sits down on the chair next to the couch. After a few moments of silence, Eric turns to his mother.

“So, how have you been?”

“Oh, just fine, dear. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Dad says…you’re getting worse.”

“You know your father,” she says giving her husband a glare. “He exaggerates. Really, dear. I’m okay.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Just as Eric finishes his sentence, a loud beeping noise comes from his beeper. Eric pulls it off of his belt, and looks at the top of the black box. He watches as the red lights flash making words in their pattern. Eric sighs, and looks up from the beeper as he reattaches it to his belt.

“Problem, son?” His father asks curiously.

“No, they need me.” Eric smiles nervously. “I’ve got my first case. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“It’s alright, honey. Just go. You have a job to do.” Eric’s mother smiles, and he leans down to kiss her on her cheek.

“I love you, mom.” He says in a kind voice.

“And I love you.” Eric stands up and turns to his father. He holds out his hand, and the two shake. Eric’s father pulls him in close, and pats him on the back.

“I’m proud of you, son.” He says with joy. The two pull away, and Eric’s father stares at his son with pride. “Go get em.”

Like the blink of an eye, Eric’s dream fades to black. His mind skips time and space, and soon brings him to another memory.

To Be Continued...

 

[trustyside-kick]

"Come on, Mister Angelo. I'm sure we can negotiate a price. My finacee is quite wealthy."

She turns her attention to me and I get a bit flustered.

"Y-yeah...b-but, baby..I mean. If he doesn't want to sell he doesn't have t-."

Jen shots me a look and I slightly slump my shoulders.

"Like the lady said, we can negotiate a price. Infact, if you sell this painting to us, I can throw in a special gift. I'm not sure if you recognize me, but I'm kinda popular in Chicago. I'm sort of a celebrity."

I sheppishly whisper the last part.

"I'm the Blue Blur..."

"What was that?"

"I'm the Blue Blur."

"What?"

"I'm the Blue Blur. You know, the superhero...yeah, that's me."

Uriel makes you Fearless

The Blue Blur? The hero Grace's younger brother was talking about? The hero I briefly read about? I scan him a bit up and down and try to picture him in the costume I saw in the picture provided by the magazine. And as his fiance puts it 'quite wealthy'? I knew the guy got salary for his job, but...never mind. Clearly these two aren't what I expected at first glance.

Although, they don't seem nearly as bad as those other hot-shots across the room who wouldn't stop breathing down my neck with compliments and smiling through their teeth at me.

..but I can't get the thought past me still.

"I'm sorry, but if you thought that helped your chances, you are surely mistaken. If I wanted to be flattered, I would have still been unpleasantly enjoying my conversation with those gentlemen over there. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening and don't have to have it run short due to a public disturbance of any kind..."

Grace looks at me, eyes wide and everything: the whole deal.

"Michael, please don't start with--"

"Grace, I made up my mind."

I bid the young couple farewell, and find something else to occupy my time. I can tell I'm going to get a stern talking to from Grace, and part of me knows I deserve it. I look back at her, and she shakes her head.

"I'm so sorry. As you can see, the work of art is a bit more than just sentimental..."

She walks over to me, and she's got that look on her face. Oh boy.

"I cannot believe you, Michael."

"I don't want--"

"I know what you don't want, Michael. But just because her fiance is somewhat of a celebrity doesn't mean he is 'snobbish' like you were assuming. He was merely trying to make a deal, babe. Next time, can you try to be nice? Hmm? That nice Catholic Boy in you that I find so adorable?"

"...oh that is just wrong."

Grace gives me a devilish smirk, and I give her a peck on her forehead for her efforts. I sigh a bit, and I walk back over to Mr. Byrd and his fiance with my arm around Grace's shoulder.

"My apologies for my...little outburst. I--I took it completely the wrong way. While I do not wish to sell that painting in particular, perhaps I can interest you in a free commission? Anything, anything at all. Completely your choice."

 

[ghost kid]

Two weeks ago...



"Dude, c'mon! You can do better than that!" I said taunting the guy. How pathetic. Simple robber. No match for the Ghost Kid...

"Stay still!"

"Sure."

He then starts to punch me, but each hit phased right through my body. He stands there shocked...

"Dude... you suck..." I saw with a powered uppercut to his chin. This is fun. Now I know how Jon feels when he's doing this. He fell down out cold.

"Simple. What's this?" I say eyeing his wallet. I check it out, and he's got like 200 bucks.

"Hehe. Jackpo--"

"--Don't even think about it..."

"Aww c'mon, Jo-- uh, Blacklight..."

He snatches the wallet out of my hand and tosses it next to the criminal's body.

"Still being a troublemaker, Shawn?"

"I was just..."

"Shawn. You can't just take his wallet. That makes you no better than he is. I got you that suit so you can be a hero, not a criminal that beats up other criminals." He says with a disappointed look and his arms folded.

I start feeling remorse. He's always been good at making me feel that. But that's usually because he right.

"I know you have good intentions..." He says putting his hand on my shoulder. "...But you can't be selfish like that. Fighting crime is for the good of others, not yourself."

"I'm sorry, Jon. It won't happen again. I promise."

"It better not, Shawn. Now go take him in." He finishes with a smirk as he flies off.

"Sure thing."

I look up to Jon. When I'm Ghost Kid, Jon's like an older brother to me. I wanna be a hero. He's right. I can't just beat up guys and reward myself. It's about being selfless. Enferno's my home, so I'm gonna help protect it...

Then my ears start to ring and a flash of 9th Alley shows a mugging in progress.

"I'm going to do it right, this time..." I say to myself as I zip away to the sky, going through each building in my path unseen to reach my destination. Dropping the crminal off at the Police Station on the way...

*************************

"Help! Help! Someone help me!"

"No one can help you now, girlie!" He said with a twisted smile.

I rush over to her, turning visible again. The bastard turned to me and stared.

"Who are you?"

"The name's Ghost Kid..."

and it was on...

Although it turned out he had a gun and he aimed it at me...

"Alot of good that'll do you..." I said sarcastically. He was red in the face, but then he started shooting but the bullets went right through ma as I walked over to him.

POW! POW! POW! CLINK.CLINK.CLINK.

Then when he went to reload his gun, I used my fingertip to shoot a thin stream of ecto-energy to knock it out of his hand. He winced in pain, and I hit him in the face with a headbutt that sent him reeling into a wall. He was KOed.

"Hah! Dumbass!" I said doing a little victory dance. Then I stopped and saw the woman approaching me.

"Thank you so much." the woman said to me afterward. My face started warming up.

"Y-Yo...You're welcome..." I said before I picked up her purse and gave them to her, taking off again. Jon was right. Helping others and being courageous and brave feels good and is a reward itself. I couldn't help but feel good on the way back home that day...

 

[Asteroid-Man]

Joe was happy with his current state. Everything was going his way. Not only was he a respected figure by the U.N. but with what happened at Sub City, he was now seen as a Hero to the United States Government. He was at his peek and after a long energy-recovery, it was time to get back down to work.

"Logon."

"Voice Recognition: Match. Welcome Mr. O'Neil."
​

"Computer, give me recent news on events happening in the United States."

"Your search is too broad. Please be more specific in your search."
​

"Recent "Super-powered" events."

"Your search is too broad. Please be more specific in your search."
​

"How many other "heroes" are there!? Well, seeing how most places are cold, Computer search only for events in California."

"Match: Detective Jack. Location: San Pablo."
​

"Information."

"Jack was found on the road in Richmond. He had no memory of who he was. He was brought in and he had no recollection of where he lived. The City of San Pablo's Police Department took him in and he's become the Country's most successful detective. Clues point that his brain function has doubled after the amnesia happened. He was given the name Jack because he had a Jack card in his pocket when he was found. No further information is available at this time. Tests could not determine his age or nationality."
​

"Load image."

​

"Well time to pay a visit back to the force."

Joe got in his suit and flew first for the LAPD to dig up some old information on Jack. As he flew in, the name Jack echoed in his mind as it was also the same name as one of his old sidekicks.

 

[Saved]

Nightmares Part VI Continued...

Eric walks into a dark alleyway, lights from the police car behind him flashing brightly. As he goes deeper into the alley, he sees two police men crouched on the ground around the outline of a deadbody. Eric shakes his head in disbelief, his hands burried in his pockets. He approaches the two officers, and leans down a little, his eyes focused on the outline drawn crudely on the black concrete.

“Agent Renden," Eric says flashing his badge. "What have we got?” Eric asks one of the men.

“Homicide.” The man replies coldly.

“Witnesses?”

“None. Some heard screams, but, that was it.”

“Just makes the job that much harder.”

“Agent, Renden, I’m still confused. Why are you here? FBI don’t pal around with law enforcement.”

“First mission, officer. I’m here to help.”

“I’m not one to argue with your boss.” The officer replies, turning back to the crime scene.

“So, who was he?”

“Albert Sans. Age thirty-four, healthy, employed, wife and family of three, and no previous run ins with the police.” Eric stares at the body, his expression showing his concentration.

“No prior arrests?”

“No, Agent.”

“I guess someone thought it was time.”

“He was shot from the front, bullet pierced his heart.”

“Bullet wound...was it a perfect shot?”

“Close to it."

“Range?”

“Two to three feet. Whoever killed this guy didn’t sneak up on him.”

“Interesting. Victim may have known the killer.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Should narrow the search a little. Gives us a list of people to investigate. The sooner we find the killer, the sooner we bring him to justice.”

“Justice?” The officer laughs. “You’ve never been to Blitzen before, have you?” As the officer laughs at Eric’s naivety, Eric smiles back, throwing the officer off guard. Eric’s confidence pierces through his stubborn ideals, showing that the young agent is not a wasted vessel. “Alright, you got spirit, I like that. Something I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“We can’t ever give up hope, officer. It’s all we have sometimes.” The officer smiles back at Eric, slowing rising to his feet.

“Inspiring. How long will you be here with us, Agent Renden?”

“As long as it takes. I’m here to see justice, and I won’t leave until I finish my job.” The officer lets out a proud laugh, extending his hand to Eric.

“Nice to have you on our side, kid.”

“Likewise,” Eric says with a smile, grasping the officer’s hand and shaking it with a firm grip. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Lieutenant Conner O’Brien,” the man says, pulling back his hand. “You can call me Conner.”

“Call me Eric.” He says putting his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to be called Agent Renden until I’ve done something.”

“Like I said, kid, you’ve got spirit.”